Cover My Heart, Hit The Deck
by Kiley L. Benham
Summary: Morbid fasicnation. Thats the only way i could describe this feeling. These thoughts.
1. Chapter 1

Morbid fasicnation.

Thats the only way i could describe this feeling. These thoughts.

It reigned over me as futility controlled every thought processed in my cluttered mind.

Death. It wasnt that i wanted to end my live.

Or that i intended to succumb to a melodramatic act of rebellion.

It was a calming thought. It soothed me. Inspired me. I used it as a motivator. To press forward with my life as carefree as possible. To observe moments in solitude, to reflect when lost.

It was almost obscene to me that anybody could doubt this.

They could perhaps doubt my idea of death.

To me, i always thought i would be dressed in a beautiful gown. Something so uniqe that it was breath taking No pun intended .

The sheer material would float about my legs caressing them as water lapped against my listless arms, my hair cascading as a make shift halo spread beaneath my scalp like a fan, currents tugging at strands twisting them.

My eyes would be still, not darting to see what was lingering around the bend, my chest would rise and fall softly until eventually my last breath was spent.

There was no fear.

There was no pain.

To the artisitc eye it would be surreal art.

An act of beauty, an image to aspire too.

Atleast that was my idea.


	2. Chapter 2

I feel like i have had a hard night out on the town. My eyes usually thrilled to pry themselves open to drink in the confusion of a collection of clothes that scream nothing more than the suggestion that someone broke into my place and has been pillaging through my clothes for loose change. But today it feels diffrent. Like there has been grit poured into my eyes, that digusting sensation you get when you have been crying for hours on end, or out all night drinking and dancing the night away. Which i dont do anymore by the way. It is that thick substance that i have charmingly entitled eye snot. The colour well, you can only imagine, but it serves the same purpose it keeps those eyelids shut insanely tight. So much so that you can literally feel your eyelashes protest when you attempt to crack them wide open.

My ipod is secured into my ears. Little known fact, the things i own in my life have little value. My phone will be on the bedside table next to me, the ipod resting on my chest and secure in my ears. When people find out about this they screw up their nose. Mostly because sleeping with headphones in to most people is uncomfartable. To me, well i have never had the luxary of a good nights rest. Without this constant distraction i find my mind wander and ludachris ideas forming in my mind. Feeding from my creativity like a flock of obese people down at mcdonalds.

Aside from that everything feels normal, apart from an ache in my right arm. I assume it was from my implosion of rage yesturday at ... i dont even remember. But i was right.

Minutes pass as i grow impatient of my eyes refusal to open. Assuming i've lived in this place for over a year now i figure i can stumble around blind. The worse that could happen would be a loss of a toe or some hair. Both of which i'm willing to risk.

My earphones are pulled out of my ears, with ease my fingers blindly finding the cord and winding it around the body of the object. It's name of which is Olly.

Olly the ipod.

I know what your thinking what twenty two year old woman names her ipod.

Let me tell you this answer to this.

A single one.

Olly is put to the right of me as i sit up.

And it hits me, i'm not at home.

The sounds, well in my hazed state i assume i would be at a resturant, alot of beeping hushed voices and codes. The scent, cleaning products...

Alot of them, more than what i'm used to anyway. Its only when i hear someone next door say " why would you come here? this hospital is referred to as a butchers " that i click.

I'm in the hottest resturant in town!

No, even in my state i am still somewhat of a prankster i feel. I'm in hospital. With Olly.

My first thought was to be honest, if apple can figure out how to fit 120 gig into a small uniqe package then why could they have not given Olly the ability to be able to hunt down or atleast describe to me why i was here.  
My second thought, was pure and simple, four letters long. Rhymes with whip but completely diffrent letters.

If you don't get it by now you never will. I didn't panic, nor attempt to move out of irrational fears of the bed, trolley, whatever you wanted to call it collapsing, taking me as collaratel. Time passed, the only way i could tell this was by the lack of intresting conversations that had been floating around earlier with enthuasim and tone, was now more like a horrifying public speaker, they lure you in with the promise of something fantastic and a lesson learnt and you got nothing but a sore bum and hours spent staring into space fantasizing about how many ways you could possibly avoid this from ever happening to you again in the future.

Eventually i heard curtains being pulled back, they were mine. I knew this because the sound was closer than close. And because the peoples footsteps who fell somewhere infront of me had said my name. Who says i'm not obeservant, if there weren't a million CSI shows on television already i would of made my own.

I feel something wrapped around my arm, a beep and it getting tighter, and tighter. The machine sounds like a basketball pump, not the old school manual ones, the giant overpowered kind that sound like they should be in a small boat instead of a sports store room. The machine blips and beeps, until i hear the air swishing out and the rips of velcro, a click of a pen, rustling of papers.

I know what your thinking, because i'm thinking it too, not much of a bedside manner. This person, really needs to rethink career wise, as he, she, it, hitler. Gruffly pushes my head to a side before stabbing at my earlobe to take my tempruture. Another click of the pen.  
Okay, so i'm not a frequent flyer in hospital systems but usually its blood prussure and temp check and they bail. So i relax a little and lean into the pillow.

When dear god, fingers poke at my eye and literally pry them apart. i literally feel eye lashes being brutally torn from their homes as she shines a torch in my right eye. Repeating the same process on the left.  
If i ever find out who that person was, i will curse them. By the time my eyes are able to see clearly they are welling with tears, mourning over the loss of eye lashes and dreading potential baldness from mis treatment. I wonder if i can sue over that.

I take a look where i am for the first time this morning.  
Hospital. Not a resturant.

Bed 13.

My bag is neatly put onto the table beside me, my clothes neatly folded clearly not by me , The bed is as i suspected or jokingly called while visiting freinds in hospital, pre used coffins. The sides are up, my right hand secured to the side, i glance at my left arm and see bruises around the wrist area. I'm assuming i was still some what with it when they placed the needle in my arm. The curtains are baby bird blue. They have metal rings secured in loop holes that make that swishing sound when pulled apart. The sheets are white. All white, aside from ones that are still sitting in the vacant chair beside me, there's alot of blood on those ones. So i stare at the now open curtains. People are wandering around, there's relatives laughing with brave patients. Nurses, floating around inbetween their patients. To occupy myself i play a little game of waiting for someone to visit me. Although this for me is not alot of fun because i know how it always ends but it does serve a purpose for a short while.  
Aside from that, there is nothing to suggest why i am here. Nothing at all.

Lunch lady comes. Looks in.  
Leaves.  
I watched her come.  
I watched her look in.  
I watched her leave.  
And reigned anger upon her as she walked away. Silently of course. Those shop bought sandwhiches are amazing, and i feel like i haven't eaten in years. Maybe... i'm not sure how long i've been in here. But i certainly hope i am still twenty two.

Visiting hours end. And i'm still left pondering what happened, how old am i, and are the backstreet boys still cool?  
I know they weren't cool when i thought they were, but are they still going to a best of compliation.

" Tinka " Ah, thats something i know. I nod my head. Mostly to keep the illusion of, i'm confused who are you and why do you have a thick accent.  
" That's a very uniqe name " He responds, i humour him with a half smile, but that's as far as i go.  
I've gotten that all my life, disney jokes too. Tinka, as in tinkerbell?. Tinka as in my mother assumed i was going to be a rain cloud in her life and rain tinkles against the window. Atleast i wasn't named tinkles which i could be greatful for, Tinka was a great name. Considering the alternative.

" How are you feeling ? " I quirk an eyebrow, it says two things, dont bond with me, and if i'm here obviously not that well.

" Right then . . . " He shifts his weight from side to side, before pulling up a chair. " Your going to be okay, gave us quite a fight when you first came in " He cuckled. " You asked the man next to you if he had seen an angel " He explained dilgently " When he responded no, you said of course not we're in freaking hell idiot " Part of me wanted to die, part of me was proud. Part of me was enjoying the story.

" Not your fault, you didn't know he was a pastor " He cuckled some more before opening the mysterious file.  
" You were admitted for... wow, you passed out on a train , presented with dehydration and fever "

" Impressive story "  
" It is " he agreed, "Sarcasm makes my job a hell of alot easier "

" Excuse me "  
" You heard, i make a general effort to get to know you, you give me the eyebrow "  
" Dude, you can't be serious "  
" Oh no i am ... " " What the fricc " He laughed.

This beautiful bastard wherever he had come from, was actually sitting there giggling like he had heard a joke for the first time. He was shaking his fingers at me like a mischevious child who had partaken in some kind of secret ritual that their parents forbode.

" As i was saying before you were so rude " He continued wiping the tears out of his eyes " We set you up with some premium saline, that'lll keep you hydrated and we've also given you some medication to take care of that nasty fever "

I didn't bother saying thank you stuck with the simple opposable thumb, after all that in it's self is a privellige.

" Geeze Tinks, your a little ray of sunshine today "

" Landon, shut up " " I'm discharging you to go home at the end of my shift, how lucky are you to have me as your best freind "

I managed him a smile as he leant over and kissed me on my forehead before beeping my nose. " Keep that langauge under control missy " He winked cutting the restraining device from my wrist, tossing it into the rubbish.

" Landon, don't wear green scrubs, they make your butt look huge " i bit back, knowing it would sting just a little to his already inflated ego.  
" Ahh Tinks, sticks and stones, sticks and stones... "


End file.
